Home
by flamencochic
Summary: Ranger contemplates the meaning of home. He has a bit of a potty mouth in this one too. Babe, if you squint.


**A/N – **I know nothing about Ranger School other than what can be found on Wikipedia. Any erroneous details can be attributed to my imagination so y'all will just have to deal. JE owns them all and abuses them way worse than I ever could if you go by the last two books. Daughtry owns the song and on some days my heart. I'm not making any money, mores the pity. Thankfully my über-beta Kate (MMO) hasn't deserted me despite the fact that Alf is the one with the pink fairy dust. Oh yeah, Ranger seems to have developed a potty mouth.

**Home**

By - Laura

**I'm staring out into the night,  
Trying to hide the pain.  
I'm going to the place where love  
and feeling good don't ever cost a thing.  
And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.**

If I had known when the General convinced me to finally come and be principal instructor for a class of Ranger candidates that it would be raining during the entire three week crawl phase I wouldn't have turned up in Georgia. Hell, the only reason I came to Ft. Benning, in the first place, was to get away from Steph. We were getting too close; I was starting to feel too many dangerous things. I was thinking of asking her to move in with me and also maybe considering 'someday' as a real possibility. That's just plain stupid when you're in my line of work. So, I'm standing here in the rain, soaked to the skin, water dripping off my nose, wishing I were with her instead of here. Damn.

When I'm with her I feel like I can just be Carlos, a guy from Newark. That's what scares me. It's been so long I don't even know if he's still there. What if he isn't? What if all that's left is Ranger? For so long I've tried to bury Carlos, what if I finally succeeded? Wouldn't that just figure? I thought that killing him made people safe, instead it could well kill any chance I might have had at keeping the one person who could love me.

The sounds of combat in my near vicinity jerked me out of my morose thoughts and into a whole set of new ones. Fuck! They aren't supposed to be anywhere near my location. Shit! Now what in the hell am I supposed to do? Motherfuck, get it together Manoso. _This isn't a game of duck and cover; this is live fire. _You're supposed to be the best there is, not standing here like a raw recruit with your pants down.

"Master Sergeant!"

Oh hell. That's just what I need. Not only do I fuck up, but I do it in front of the General. Good going Manoso. Nice way to be aware of your surroundings pendejo.

"Yes, Sir! General." The last thing I want to do is disappoint General McKinzie. He recommended me to Ranger School when I was a snot nosed Army brat who thought he knew it all. He's also the one who requested I come back and lead this particular training exercise.

"I suggest that you come back from wherever you were and pay attention," he barked. I really don't need to be on the General's shit list. He's a fair man but can be hard-nosed when he thinks it's needed. "If you want to train these guys you have to have their respect and you don't get that by letting them know you screwed up. Now fall back."

Crap. That's just what I need. Murphy must really have it out for me. This is the last field training exercise before we head to Camp Merrill and Yonah Mountain. The last thing I need is for the General to have questions about my focus. Get your mind off Steph, soldier_._ Sonofabitch, I haven't been this mentally out of control since I was a ranger candidate myself.

**The miles are getting longer, it seems  
the closer I get to you.  
I've not always been the best man or friend for you.  
Your love, it makes true.  
And I don't know why.  
You always seem to give me another try.**

Stephanie. Steph. My Babe. When did she become _My Babe_? Probably about the second or third time I said something colossally stupid about our relationship and she forgave me… Relationship?! Fuck. When in the hell did that happen? Jesus, I am such a stupid pinche cabron. Apparently Steph isn't the only one who does denial. I've seen it more times than I can count. Shit, it's staring me in the face. As I look at these men I am training, watching them inhale their blueberry pancakes and anything else even remotely edible on the flight to Florida, I have to laugh. They don't even realize that these fellow soldiers they are training with will be lifelong friends. The kind of friend you trust with your life. That is after all where I met Tank and Lester.

I have the same kind of relationship with Steph. It happened right about the time I went FTA. None of my men questioned what happened, whether from fear or respect doesn't matter. Tank knew I didn't do it and Lester didn't care one way or another but Steph… She was the only one who had an inkling of what it would do to me inside. She was the only one who was worried about me. That meant more to me than she could ever know. I didn't even get that kind of unconditional support from my family. I guess that's what I get for isolating myself from everyone. I thank the powers that be every day that she didn't give up on me. I hope she never will.

**Be careful what you wish for,  
'Cause you just might get it all.  
You just might get it all,  
And then some you don't want.  
Be careful what you wish for,  
'Cause you just might get it all.  
You just might get it all, yeah.**

You know, they say you should be careful what you wish for. I never realized how true that statement was. When I was a punk running with the gangs in Newark and then in Miami all I wanted to be was a bad ass. Nobody was going to mess with Ricky Manoso. I moved up the chain of command by being the baddest and meanest asshole on the streets. Pretty soon word got around you didn't mess with me and my homeys. It was a good way to end up in the hospital or worse. I didn't do anything in half measures back then; I still don't for that matter. You fucked with me and you paid the price, that is all there was to it.

I don't know why I was given the option of the Army or jail when I was popped for grand theft auto. By all rights they should have tossed me in the deepest, darkest hole they could find and thrown away the key. I guess Uncle Sam saw something he could use. What I saw was a chance to be bigger and badder. So I took it and ran with it. And I thrived. I was still in boot when Gen. Michael McKinzie recommended me for Ranger School. It was everything I ever dreamed. Finally I was going to be the baddest of the bad.

I had never done anything so difficult in all my life. They took a smart mouthed, know-it-all gangbanger and turned him into a deadly weapon that they could use and control. Along the way I got some things I didn't ask for. I never asked to be an assassin or a mercenary. I just needed to be strong and powerful; to me that was the only way to protect myself and the ones I loved. Problem was I became more of a danger to them than anything or anyone else. How do you protect yourself _from _yourself? You can't, but maybe, just maybe, I can protect some of these men, keep them from doing to themselves what I did to myself. It's time to do what I am getting paid for.

I walk out onto the field at Camp Rudder on Eglin AFB holding a furry little rabbit. I begin talking about survival in the jungle. Looking around at the men I see James. He's a good man and a good soldier, even if he is a little soft hearted. So I hand the rabbit to him and continue talking about what it takes to be a ranger. I talk about the conditions they may find themselves in. I explain the way they are feeling right now is nothing. Never mind the fact that they've been operating on less than 3 hours of sleep a night for the last 2 months. Forget the fact that they haven't had a decent meal in just as long. None of that matters. All that matters is surviving and even that takes second place to the objective. James has taken to petting the rabbit during my lecture.

Ploshey, one of the three other RI's working with me in this class, drives a truck loaded with chickens and rabbits and vegetables to the middle of the field. I then explain to the men that today is Survival Day. Each buddy team will get either a chicken or a rabbit that they must catch and kill if they want to eat today. I also remind them to take the rubber seal out of the ammo can they'll be using to cook their dinner. Last thing I want is a bunch of injuries from a chicken claymore. Teams will be awarded major pluses for fastest fire, best built lean to and best field expedient weapon.

"2nd Lt. James!" I want to see what this man is really made of.

"Yes, Master Sergeant Manoso!"

I hand him my Leatherman army knife. "You're first up. Kill the rabbit." This is where we separate the men from the boys.

**Oh, well I'm going home,  
Back to the place where I belong,  
And where your love has always been enough for me.  
I'm not running from.  
No, I think you got me all wrong.  
I don't regret this life I chose for me.  
But these places and these faces are getting old.  
I said these places and these faces are getting old,  
So I'm going home.  
I'm going home.**

"What happened to you?" I glance over at the General sitting next to me on the plane.

"What do you mean?" I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. I'm going to pretend I have no idea what the he's talking about.

"Ranger training is not only hard on the candidates but it tests the endurance of the instructors as well. That's why only the very best of the best are asked back as instructors." By the look I got from him my pretending wasn't very successful. I'm just glad he let it slide.

I appreciated the fact that he had been on my ass for the last couple of years to come back to instruct a class. All I could think of though was the fact that I didn't want to be here anymore. I just wanted to go home, and home is wherever Steph is.

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were beginning to regret some choices you've made."

I thought back on my life. The things I'd done, choices I'd made. They were the right thing at that time. I honestly believed that I was doing what was best. If I could go back and change some of those decisions, would I? No. I don't believe I would.

No I don't regret anything, but I'm starting to think if I don't man up, and soon, I might begin to.

* * *

If you like please review. My muse is feeling a little fragile and needs a serious self image boost.


End file.
